


A Thing of Wax and Feathers

by Just_Another_Day



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Brotherly Affection, Drama, Families of Choice, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 09:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20445230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Another_Day/pseuds/Just_Another_Day
Summary: Even with nowhere else to go, Nicaise still hesitates. Surely it's too much of a risk to take.





	A Thing of Wax and Feathers

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 'Don't You Dare Pity Me' square of Bad Things Happen Bingo. Mind the tags.

Nicaise had known it was coming, really. He wasn't an idiot. Three and a half years was actually a longer stretch than he'd logically thought he would be allowed to remain there. But part of him – the childish part that had somehow survived despite everything – had still hoped that it could last. Or at least that it wouldn't end so abruptly.

He'd just wanted to not be disregarded without notice, like a once-useful item turned refuse, for once in his life. Was that really too much to ask?

Apparently so.

Nicaise found himself sitting under the largest of the trees in the nearest park, trying to think through his options. He needed to start thinking about basic survival needs now that he was out on his own again. He'd probably have to sleep out here at least for tonight, or to be precise, until he could find a few marks who Nicaise could part from their cash one way or another. As for his already-grumbling stomach, there was a fried chicken place a few streets over, Nicaise recalled. He probably could make himself look pathetic enough that some gullible idiot might be persuaded to shout him a cheap meal. Nicaise wasn't above capitalising on the pity of strangers.

That was considerably different from being pitied by someone who knew him, and whose opinion might matter in some way.

That was why Nicaise was appalled to see Laurent approaching him from a little way across the park as dusk was starting to fall. Nicaise scrambled to his feet the moment he saw him coming, not wanting to be at any more of a disadvantage than necessary.

It didn't entirely surprise Nicaise that Laurent was still somehow keeping close enough tabs on his uncle's personal business to be notified that Nicaise had been kicked out. There was no better way for Laurent to be able to ensure he could avoid the man than to know exactly what he was up to, after all, and Nicaise knew there was at least one person who was friendly to Laurent in his uncle's household. Nor was it unexpected that he could figure out where Nicaise would have gone when it wouldn't be unfair to assume that Nicaise didn't have enough money in his pockets to go anywhere. What was more shocking was that Laurent had willingly stepped foot within just a few blocks of his uncle's house. And, to a lesser extent, that he'd taken the time to track Nicaise down at all. Surely Laurent had better things to do. Shouldn't he have been in class or something?

"I have a spare room you can have," said Laurent. He had more than one, Nicaise knew. It wasn't the first time that Laurent had offered Nicaise the use of one of them.

The circumstances had changed a lot since the last time, Nicaise considered. But still…

"I can take care of myself," Nicaise snapped. "I don't need you."

"Of course you don't," said Laurent. It didn't even sound sarcastic. His reasonable tone was somehow more annoying than if Laurent had just outright doubted his abilities. "But you do need a roof over your head. And I happen to have one of those."

"So what? Who would ever voluntarily choose to live with _you_?"

Instead of seeming offended, Laurent had the gall to laugh, though there was something off about it. It wasn't until Laurent answered, "Good point. No one still living, I'm sure," that Nicaise realised why it had sounded so strained.

Nicaise shifted in discomfort. That was one wound that Nicaise wasn't _quite_ willing to attack, even though he knew that probably would have been enough to immediately get Laurent to leave him alone. So for what might have been the first time in his life, Nicaise willingly let what would doubtless be an easy victory pass unclaimed.

Still, that didn't mean he wanted to deal with Laurent's pity.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Nicaise said. "So you might as well stop wasting your time."

"You aren't a waste of time."

Nicaise snorted, disbelieving. He knew how people regarded him.

The shadows cast by the setting sun shielded some of Laurent's reaction to that, but Nicaise still caught the unhappy purse of his lips. Maybe Laurent thought that even that would be too hard to pick out, for he didn't bother to try to school his face back into neutrality.

Or maybe that was because Nicaise was the only one looking, and Laurent didn't particularly care if he saw.

There was a moment in which Nicaise thought Laurent would continue to push (and in which Nicaise prepared himself to dig in his heels even harder, because there was no way he was letting Laurent out-stubborn him, ever). But apparently Laurent knew that much, for he seemed to think better of it.

"Where else would you plan on staying?" was what Laurent asked instead of insisting that Nicaise come with him.

Nicaise shrugged. "I'll find a place. I always do."

Though admittedly it had been several years since he'd had to worry about it. And his options were narrowed because this time Nicaise was _definitely_ not risking going anywhere that would up chances of ending up back in foster care. He'd take the streets over that any day. At least then it was on his own terms.

The shift of muscles probably would have been enough warning for Nicaise under other circumstances, but he hadn't been on his guard with Laurent the way he would be standing so close to anyone else (which was fairly telling, but Nicaise didn't want to think about that when this was already so confusing for him). So Nicaise had no real chance to avoid it when Laurent wrapped his arms around him. Nicaise stiffened, unsure how to respond.

What were you supposed to do when someone hugged you? Nicaise didn't have the first clue.

It didn't last long, mercifully. Laurent was already letting go of him even as Laurent was saying, "Take care of yourself, Nicaise. And you know where I am if you change your mind."

Nicaise supposed that he could at least appreciate that Laurent wasn't presumptive enough to say 'when', as if it were only a matter of time before Nicaise came running to him with his tail between his legs.

Still. Laurent wouldn't just walk away that easily. Nicaise had shared a roof with Laurent for nearly a whole year before Laurent had finally turned eighteen and received his inheritance, and then promptly walked out the door of his uncle's house. He had only looked back to extend a hand (more than once) to Nicaise, asking Nicaise come with him despite the trouble that would have kicked up for both of them at the time. Nicaise liked to think that he _knew_ Laurent, at least better than anyone else did. And Laurent wouldn't be ready to just give up on him. Not by his own choice.

So Nicaise had to be the one to walk away, leaving Laurent behind rather than taking the chance that Laurent, who was acting like such a ridiculous sap right then, would have stayed there all night waiting for the moment when the cold or the presence of the (other) homeless people in the park would hopefully fray Nicaise's nerves enough that he'd agree to go home with Laurent after all. As if Nicaise hadn't endured worse than that. Nicaise would just come back in a few hours, once Laurent would be gone.

Though it _was_ getting chilly, admittedly. Nicaise buried his hands in his pockets to try to warm them.

One of those pockets wasn't empty. It had been earlier. Nicaise frowned. He pulled the items free of his pocket. His eyes widened.

Either Nicaise had had his guard down even further with Laurent than he'd thought while Laurent had hugged him, not to feel Laurent's hand slipping into Nicaise's jacket, or else Laurent would have made a pretty decent pickpocket in another life.

He turned and looked back across the park, in the direction where he'd left Laurent behind in the distance. Nicaise couldn't see from there, but he wondered whether he could catch Laurent if he rushed back now. Nicaise chose not to find out. He needed time to think.

In Nicaise's hand now was a bundle of notes, Nicaise saw, of various denominations, though most of them were hundreds. It was probably everything Laurent had had in his wallet, Nicaise would guess. Or more, even, since Nicaise doubted that Laurent carried this kind of cash around on him as a habit. He wasn't exactly that absurdly rich; another reason why it would make little sense for Nicaise to move in with him, Nicaise reminded himself. Though that would mean that Laurent had gone even _further_ out of his way to withdraw money from his account, guessing in advance that Nicaise would more than likely turn down his offer.

Nicaise quickly stuffed the money back in his pocket to stop anyone from seeing that he had that much money on him, just in case one of the passers-by took Nicaise as an easy mark to steal from. Nicaise would give them a surprise if they tried – he would bite and claw and kick them in their most delicate places without compunction – but he'd rather not take the chance.

Nicaise would like to have said that he didn't get why Laurent would do it. Laurent couldn't be sure that he would ever even see Nicaise again. And he didn't owe Nicaise anything either way. He didn't need to fork out his money like that when there was nothing in it for him. There was certainly no one else who would ever have done something like that for Nicaise.

Nicaise found that he _did_ understand, though. It was just hard to let himself believe.

Nicaise supposed that he could have taken that cash and gone and purchased himself a disreputable hotel room where they wouldn't ask for proof of age identification as long as Nicaise's money was good. That would have given him a base to 'work' out of to earn himself some more money. He could have set himself pretty well like that, as these things went.

It wouldn't have been what Laurent wanted Nicaise to spend it on, but Laurent had to have considered that that would be exactly what his money would be put towards. He couldn't have been under any illusions of what Nicaise was planning on doing to earn himself some kind of living, all things considered. He'd left that choice to Nicaise. It was Nicaise's choice.

That was important.

So instead, Nicaise bought himself a surely way-overpriced-for-fast-food meal (though Nicaise hadn't eaten this kind of dreck in years, let alone had to pay for meals himself, so he supposed he had no recent standard to judge by) to quieten his complaining stomach. Then he used some of the money on a cab.

Nicaise had never been to this house before, but Laurent had told him the address more than once; a clear invitation. So he knew he was in the right place.

The place was large, but somehow wasn't imposing the way the building Nicaise had stayed inside for the past few years had been. Nicaise was well aware – because he'd heard the bitter complaints about it more than once – that the house was only in Laurent's possession because it had been legally gifted to Laurent's brother before Auguste had died, and therefore hadn't been part of Laurent's father's will, which had all (legitimately or, more likely, not) gone to the man's brother instead of to his one surviving son. The house was probably the only thing of significant value that Laurent had to his name, after putting whatever other money he'd inherited from his brother as well into paying for his university costs. However nice the house might look, Nicaise couldn't otherwise expect to live in the luxury he'd become accustomed to here.

But he was almost completely sure that he also wouldn't need to worry about some of the other things he'd become accustomed to. And there was something to be said for that.

"I only came here because your house is so huge that I'll barely have to see you anyway," Nicaise claimed flatly in place of a greeting when Laurent answered Nicaise's insistent knocking.

Laurent blinked. He looked surprised to see Nicaise there. Nicaise wasn't certain whether that was because he'd thought it would take longer for him to change his mind, or because he'd convinced himself that Nicaise never would after being turned down so many times, and not being assured of having another chance to offer.

Laurent silently let the door swing the rest of the way open. Nicaise half-shoved past him into the house.

"And I'm not giving you your money back," Nicaise continued.

"I didn't expect you to."

"I have to buy clothes and stuff, so I need it for that," Nicaise justified, even though Laurent hadn't argued with him. Nicaise would only have what was on his back, otherwise. Not that most of the clothes that he'd worn over the last year or so would have been anything he could wear in public. "And I'll also need more for food and stuff."

"I assumed you'd just raid my fridge," Laurent said.

Nicaise narrowed his eyes. "_Your_ fridge?" he asked warily. He'd thought…

But it had always been like that, as long as Nicaise could remember. His foster parents, and the other boys in the squat houses, and his 'sponsors', had always made it very clear that they were doing Nicaise a favour, and that everything in sight belonged to them. Including Nicaise himself.

"Yes," said Laurent before Nicaise's thoughts could go too far down that track. "I assumed you would want one to yourself. I remember how you don't like to share. And don't worry, I'm well aware that I'll be buying your food for you. And your clothes. Save the money for the future, if you like."

Oh.

Well.

Nicaise had always been quick to adapt, at least, so he tried to recover his composure quickly so that Laurent wouldn't be able to tell what he was feeling.

"So you should. It's a privilege for you to have me here." It didn't come out as confidently as Nicaise would have liked, though. He hoped Laurent missed the slight shake to Nicaise's voice. Nicaise would hate for Laurent to think that Nicaise was _emotional_ about this, or something.

Laurent was covering that well enough for both of them, it seemed.

"I'm glad you decided to come," Laurent said.

Nicaise rolled his eyes, pretending not to be secretly pleased by how genuinely happy Laurent seemed to have him there, finally. "Whatever."

Laurent showed Nicaise to what was supposedly going to become his bedroom. Nicaise couldn't remember the last time he'd been able to lay personal claim to one of those. Almost immediately after they arrived at the door, Nicaise was left standing in the doorway after Laurent hesitantly patted Nicaise on the shoulder then left to go find some sheets for the bed. Nicaise wondered whether Laurent was intentionally giving him a moment of privacy to check things out.

Nicaise didn't force himself to lean into Laurent's brief touch, the way he might have with someone else under other circumstances. But he didn't feel any desire to flinch away before Laurent's hand fell free on its own, either.

The first thing Nicaise noticed about the room once he was alone was that there was a lock on the door. A lock that only operated from the _inside_ of the room, so Nicaise himself would be the one who had control of it. That was… novel. The room was also surprisingly spacious, even for such a big house. Nicaise could almost imagine adding his own touches to it; making the space his own. And it had a walk-in wardrobe that Nicaise would dearly like to fill up eventually. 

He realised that he was subconsciously planning on being there for a long time. He shouldn't. He knew that expectation was a mistake. Just like it had been a mistake to hope, even a little, the last time, except worse, because this was Laurent. That was the part of this that was terrifying enough that Nicaise had intended not to take Laurent up on his offer. Nicaise would never admit that he felt that way to anyone, especially Laurent himself, but the whole concept was scary, because Nicaise wasn't used to it at all, and _what if he was wrong_? What if he got his hopes up only for it to fall through yet again, especially when this time he actually _really_ wanted for it to work? Nicaise didn't know what it would be like to lose Laurent permanently the way he'd lost everyone else. At least if he'd continued to say no, the option would always have been there in a back of Nicaise's mind; a comfort he could turn to. If he drove Laurent away, what then?

And it would be just too easy for Nicaise to let himself too completely buy into what was being handed to him now. It was hard, somehow – despite the extensive experience Nicaise had endured with exactly that – to imagine Laurent growing tired of him and just kicking him out. Nicaise had the feeling that Laurent's intention was for this to be Nicaise's actual home, like other kids got to have, rather than just a roof over Nicaise's head as long as it was convenient. That was more than Nicaise had had before. But intention was one thing, and reality another. Nicaise had to keep that in mind.

Laurent returned with the sheets. Nicaise just stood back and watched Laurent make the bed himself, because there was no way Nicaise was going to do it. Not that he didn't know how or anything. He just didn't want to. Laurent completed the task completely on his own, but it was with a slight shake of the head, like he knew what Nicaise was doing.

At least that made it seem like it wouldn't take long at all for the weird carefulness and the lustre of the situation to wear off. Good. It made Nicaise uncomfortable not to have Laurent biting back at least a little more than he had been today. He'd rather have Laurent sniping at him and challenging him, because otherwise it didn't feel entirely real, and that only ratcheted up the worry that it couldn't possibly last. And Nicaise didn't even really know what to do with a Laurent who was being almost _sweet_ to him, anyway.

"Well? Fuck off so I can sleep, then," Nicaise said pretty much the moment Laurent was done.

Laurent actually laughed. Unlike the way he'd laughed earlier in the day, he didn't sound half like a wounded animal. Instead, it sounded like a burst of relief.

Nicaise understood that feeling, despite himself. In the short term Nicaise could see how this might work, and that in itself was a reprieve. 

As for later, Nicaise would just have to make the best of the situation, the way he always did. He could worry about that in the morning, after he broke in the bed. _His_ bed. In _his_ room. In a house that he was supposedly allowed to think of as at least partly his as well.

Nicaise wouldn't believe in it _too_ much, especially in the permanency of it. But he still did allow himself just the smallest of smiles.


End file.
